


The Year of the Cat

by Dillian



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU-Present Day California, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Cat Loki, F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Shapeshifter Loki, Threesome - M/M/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-11 13:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dillian/pseuds/Dillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternating POV, Loki and Tony.  Just some mild, friendly smut, involving a sometime-cat, and a human who swears he's not into anything permanent, and with a happy outcome for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Loki

“On a morning from a Bogart movie,  
In a country where they turn back time,  
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre  
Contemplating a crime.  
She comes out of the sun in a silk dress,  
Running, like a watercolor in the rain,  
Don't bother asking for explanations,  
She'll just tell you that she came  
In the year of the cat,  
  
She doesn't give you time for questions,  
As she locks up your arm in hers,  
And you follow till your sense of which direction  
Completely disappears.”  
\-- Al Stewart, “Year of the Cat”

 

**_The Avengers_ ** **, _Iron Man_ , and _Thor_ , and all situations and characters thereof, belong strictly and solely to Marvel Comics.  This is a fan-work, meant for enjoyment only, and not for any material profit.**

 

Velvet paws, triangle nose, little shadow of inky-black, hugging the walls, fading into corners, then scampering out when attention turns the other way.  And the thoughts?  Properly feline and regal:  “That one, he’ll do.  Nice muscles, not too much fat.  Oh, and look at the curve of that ass, yes, this one will do quite well.”  It’s funny, really, how much goes unnoticed, even in the heart of the crowded city.  Where once a cat stood, now there’s a man, tall, properly arrogant, dressed all in black, with eyes like green, cat’s eyes.

“Hot dogs, wrapped in _bacon_?  Because nothing else could possibly improve cured tubes of offal, quite as well as smoked pig?”  An aloof expression, to go with the condescending tone.  The “hot dog” purveyor grows restive, then, as the other man stops, takes his position outside a store on the other side of the square and turns his way, Loki decides.

A crumpled $20 bill, conjured out of nothingness, from a pocket that was not there a moment ago.  “Keep the change,” he says, and receives the gift of one kind of meat wrapped in another, both wrapped in a bun that wants to disintegrate in his hands.

The “hot dog” wrapped in the bacon is better than Loki would have imagined.  Better still, the attention the other man gives him, when he eats it just so.  Mouth opened wide, insert the fatty cylinder to its fullest extent, and then _lick_.  Moan a little, half-closed eyes, but all the time, you are watching him, while he watches you. 

There across the square, look at him:  He sees what’s happening, doesn’t he?  And he’s thinking about what else Loki might lick, in just such a way.  Look at the light in his brown eyes, the soft smile, playing on the lips.  Mmm, such full lips, imagine kissing those, imagine them, sucking in a few places Loki can think of.  This man may serve for more than one afternoon’s entertainment, if he is but _encouraged_ in the right way.

Mmm, lick that bacon “hot dog” again, oh, watch the man across the square.  Look how his trousers change, as Loki takes the cylinder in his mouth again, watch as he moves the bags in his arms, hiding what looks like a sizeable erection.  Oh, this human will be _fun_.

He’s not too shy to come over, is he?  But no, here he comes.  Oh, and he looks even better up close, doesn’t he?  Look at the perfectionism of the haircut, the carefully trimmed beard, framing those sensual lips.  Mmm, just the thought of those lips…  Loki feels his own arousal stirring.

“I’d offer to buy you lunch, but you seem to have taken care of that already.”  It’s not the most original greeting perhaps, but it will serve.

“They’re delicious.”  Loki licks bacon grease, sweet, “hot dog” juices.  Delicate pink tongue, slowly tracing the line around his lips.  He knows just what it looks like.  And the smile, tease and challenge, sparkle of his green, cat’s eyes.  “Let me buy you one.”

Quick, furtive glance back at the store.  Who is in there, and what relationship has she, to Loki’s so-attractive plaything?  Followed by a relaxed smile.  “I can make that work.  Maybe I show you my place afterward?”

Yes, this brown-eyed morsel is more delicious than any “hot dog,” and he will definitely show Loki his “place” after they finish here.  Just ignore the hurried taps, as he uses his cell phone, and sends a message to whoever-that-is, he was waiting for.  It would be preferable if she came out of the store and was surprised, maybe disappointed, to find him gone, but Loki is philosophical, he takes his toys as he finds them.

And his delicious brown-eyed toy orders two “hot dogs,” says, “What say we eat these at my place?”

Oh yes, they will definitely eat them at “his place,” and Loki walks with him, the small distance, out of the shopping area, across a small street, and up a flight of stairs, to a loft-apartment that is pleasantly clean, and with _two_ bedrooms, giving hope that the woman the human was with earlier will not be too much of an inconvenience.

“My name’s Tony,” the human says.  He gives Loki one of the “hot dogs,” then tongues his own, in good imitation of Loki’s earlier full-throated style.  This “Tony” is a fast learner.


	2. Tony

A lot of guys couldn’t live with their ex-wife, even for the short time that Pepper’s going to be here.  A week, maybe two, just long enough for her to find a place for her and Happy, before he winds things up in Colorado, and comes out and meets her here.

Pepper’s cool though, she’s always been cool.  She was a great wife for the about two minutes that their marriage lasted…  What was it that possessed them to try it in the first place?  Was it just being drunk and stupid, because Tony didn’t really believe, even back then, that he was “bisexual,” did he?

No, but there you come back to it again:  Pepper’s cool.  She’s fun to be with, and good enough in bed that a guy can ignore various deficiencies (such as her gender), and have a good time with her.  She’s a little stuck on always having things her own way, which is maybe part of why they ended up at the chapel, that weekend in Vegas in the first place, but hey, that’s fine, everybody’s got their faults.  Anyway, since she married Happy, Pep’s bossiness has been channeled into something else:

“Find a _boyfriend_ , Tony.  Find somebody nice, that you can have a _longterm relationship_ with, because everyone knows, no one could possibly be happy unless they’re shacked to the same person for all of eternity.”

Yeah, Pepper’s all right.  She maybe doesn’t completely understand that this bedroom Tony’s being so generous as to let her stay in, is supposed to be the playroom, not some kind of permanent place, where some Longterm Love-of-Tony’s-Life kind of guy is going to set up shop and be his permanent boyfriend.  She doesn’t get it that some men are meant to roam, and have a good time, and it’s the other kind, that come into the world already pre-fitted for some Love Interest, male or female, to set them up with their own pair of shackles.

Never mind, nobody’s perfect.  Are you perfect?  Is Tony?  At any rate, she was cool when Tony texted her all out of the blue, and said, “Don’t come home for a while.”

Quick message back, “Fine, there’s a house in San Marino I wanted to check out anyway…”

A _house_.  Yeah, those shackles some guys are so willing to jump right into?  Biggest shackle you can get is that 30-year mortgage, for a _house_ , you’re going to be spending every weekend, for the rest of your life, taking care of.

…Anyway, Roamer-Tony is doing what he was born to do.  He’s coming home, with the playroom already occupied unfortunately, but there’s plenty of playing you can do in your own bedroom.  He’s bringing home a tall cool drink of water of a man, with green eyes, and a wicked smile, and a body that makes dirty fantasies start in your head just looking at it.  And he’s unlocking the door, letting him in, whereupon Mr. Gorgeous doesn’t waste any time pushing him up against the wall and saying, “The ‘hot dogs’ can wait, can’t they?”

Oh yeah, baby, those hot dogs can _wait_.

Black leather coat, one of the long kind, with the coattails of doom.  Push it off shoulders that looked skinny, but mmm, there are some _muscles_ under there.  And the green shirt, yeah, there are muscles, and that stomach?  Toned like he does something active, not just pushing a lot of weights around.  This is a runner’s body, and very well taken care of.

And meanwhile black-haired Mr. Gorgeous is pulling Tony’s t-shirt over his head, he’s kissing and kissing him, trailing a hot tongue down his throat, nibbling his chest, and sucking at his nipples until Tony’s body tingles all over.

“Mmm, god, yeah,” Tony says, “just a little bit lower,” and Gorgeous Mystery-Man obeys.  Urgent fingers, fumbling the button at Tony’s waist, grabbing the zipper, pulling the jeans down so they can grab…  Mmm, yeah, _just_ like that.

Gorgeous Mystery-Man likes sucking.  And he likes fucking, first the busy tongue, pulling Tony to orgasm, lapping his balls, first one, then the other, savoring them like they’re the most delicious treat in the world, then moving back slowly, and driving Tony crazy all over again, tongue, teasing his asshole, followed by the fingers, one, two, then three.  Then right when he feels like he’s going to go over the edge just from that, there comes the main course, in deep, and deeper, and hard and fast, until they’re both coming together, collapsing into a sweaty tangle together, on Tony’s bed after an explosion that feels like it lasts a lifetime.

Gorgeous Mystery-Man comes over here, he takes what he wants, and then he leaves.  Roamer-Tony is stuck being the needy one for once:  “What’s your name?  Can I get a number?”

Green eyes that glow, under hair that’s rumpled from everything they’ve been doing together, and a _smile_ …  Oh god, what does that smile mean?  “My name’s Loki…”  Mmm, just that little tip of his pink tongue, touching his lips as he says it.  Just the thought of that _tongue_ , and everyplace it’s been…  “I’ll be in touch,” Loki says, and he leaves.

And there’s Roamer-Tony, all alone in his apartment, thinking, “Hmm, a one-night-stand, just how I like it,” and not meaning it, even for a second.


	3. Chapter 3

So bored, curled in a ball in the wicker rocker, on the front porch of The Jane Woman’s house.  Yawn, show needle-teeth, stretch, sending the claws deep into that chintz cushion of hers, mmm, that’s _good_.  Brother’s on the concrete, right in front of the stairs.  He thinks it’s his job to _protect_ the place.  Loki?  He couldn’t be bothered.

“Are you awake, Brother?”  That’s Thor, his voice, energetic as always.  “You were out late last night, Jane and I were worried.”

Jane can go to the Underworld, as far as Loki’s concerned.  Ever since she turned up, Thor’s been so boring.  No late-night prowls through the city, no adventures, no _fun_.

“I’m not awake.”  Loki tucks his paw over his eyes, making an inky pool of himself, hiding deeper in the shadows that still cover half the porch.

“Brother, you know I love you, you know Jane loves you.”

Thor talks too much, but that Jane of his talks more.  And there seems no way of stopping her.  Assume human form?  She talks to you.  Retreat to the form of a cat again, and what do you get?  Nonstop monologue, “Oh, it’s so warm today, oh, work was like this and this, oh, Loki, how about some tuna?”

…Okay, this last part, maybe, is a little more interesting.

Back in those wonderful days Before Jane, Thor and Loki were a tag-team.  The broad-shouldered orange tomcat, with his sleeker, black-furred companion, they _owned_ Pasadena, prowling the alleys between the shops in Old Town, strutting down Colorado Boulevard like they owned it, and once, before the Rose Parade, claiming a prime spot on the grandstand right in front of the Civic Auditorium, and watching the whole thing.  …Until Thor saw a blonde he liked, and Shifted to go after her (and then Loki saw someone with a nice smile and crinkled blue eyes, a little while later, and he went after him).

Yes, the Good Old Days, they’re gone forever.  These days, it’s, “Oh Loki, you should settle down.  Oh Loki, why don’t you find yourself someone?  Oh Loki, this, and oh, Loki, that,” and so on, ad infinitum, until he’s about ready to “find someone,” just so he can get away from the two of them. … _Just_ about.  Playing the field is too much fun to give up.

Round blue eyes, look up at him.  “Brother, where were you last night?”

How to describe it, even if he wanted to?  The human was energetic, he was clever, he was certainly a quick learner.  Mmm, and the body:  Muscles, nice and tidy and efficient, and the equipment, very efficient, and so ready to do the job.  And the butt, that butt, that someone could get lost in, and play for days and days, and never get bored.  …That is, _if_ they were the type to settle down.

Don’t give Thor the satisfaction of looking at him.  Quick answer, said in a yawn, “I was out, I thought you saw.”

Typical Thor, he gets his satisfaction whether you give it or not.  “You met someone, didn’t you?” he meows.

No answer, just a yawn.  _Yes, Thor, I “met someone," you're so clever._

But the Thunder-Cat persists:  “Someone special?”

Someone who thinks he likes one-night stands, whose whole life is geared to independence, and freedom, and “playing the field.”  …Someone who gave Loki his heart so quickly; they were there together, and it was fun, and then he was snared, and he never even noticed until Loki walked away, and then his brown eyes were full of disappointment.  Playing with him was like catching a mouse, the cuddly kind, that gives as good as he gets, and always enjoys it. …Until the cat decides he’s had enough, and he leaves, and Poor Mousie is heartbroken.

“A one-night stand,” Loki meows.

Thor laughs a cat-laugh.  “You’re going to see him again, aren't you?”

Loki closes his eyes again, and ignores him.  He will do what he wants.


	4. Chapter 4

Bored, so bored.  So bored he goes house-hunting with Pepper, now if that isn’t desperation, what is?   Her so cute, in her tiny little blue dress, that nice ass, that is still a very good ass (but Loki’s was better), red hair halfway down her back, and it bounces as she walks.

House is in South Pasadena, for god’s sake, and if there ever was a tighter-ass, more upper middle-class neighborhood anywhere?  If there was, Tony hasn’t heard of it.  Ooh, fancy-ass _designer_ supermarket on the corner, check.  Hmm, coffee shop:  Starbucks?  Nope, too proletarian.  This is fancier.  And follow Pepper’s nice little blue butt, follow the bouncing red hair, up the street, sidewalk cracked, where the old trees’ roots have spread, picket fences, roses, flowering something-or-others, _drought-friendly landscaping_ , for god’s sake. 

House is …oh, so boring, so fucking yawn-eriffic.  Ignore the fact that everything’s been boring, ever since…  Yeah, since Loki disappeared.  One night, one fucking night, what’s the deal there, friend?  Who walks out on Tony Fuckin’ Stark?  Tony walks out on other people, thank you very much.  …And not even a goddamn phone number, so he can call him…

Hardwood floors:  Ooh, aah, ohh.  Craftsman something-or-other:  Hmm, original?  Renovations, when?  Oh, you can hardly tell.  And, do you want to see the back yard, Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark?

Ms. Potts wants to see the back yard, yes (and Mr. Stark doesn’t get any say in it).  Out the back door…  Hmm, glass?  Cat door?  Nice, very nice.  And the steps, nice, and the lawn, nice, and the fruit trees.  Oh, it’s all so _nice_ , everything’s _nice_ , isn’t it _nice_ , boys and girls?  Yawn, yawn, yawn, yawn, yawn.  And another yawn.

Pepper and Real Estate Lady go off somewhere.  Some kind of blah-blah-blah about the garage, or maybe it’s the pine tree, or the neighbors, or you know what, who goddamn cares what it’s about?  Tony’s left to wander around.  What do you do when you’re left all alone in some random backyard in South Fuckin’ Pasadena?

…Shadow of black, moving through the bushes.  It’s a _cat_ , that’s all, just a fuckin’ cat.  Strange how it made him go all alert there for a second, weird feeling of familiarity.  Just for a minute it was like he saw Loki, but it wasn’t Loki, it couldn’t have been.  This was just some goddamn cat.

Back to being bored.  Rustle in the bushes, something jumps.  Here, kitty, kitty.  Since when are _you_ interested in _cats_ , Stark?  Don’t question, just act.  Here, cat, come on, cat, come tell Tony Stark what makes you so interesting.  Cat ignores him, goes jump, jump, jumpetty-jump, up onto the fence, and over, and down into the alley beyond.  Cat runs off …probably.  Tony doesn’t see him go.

And a voice that’s like a wake-up call:  “Tony Stark?  Funny finding you here.”

Perfect-urban Loki here, in Yawnsylvania?  Smile at him through South For-God’s-Sake Pasadena fence.  Meet those eyes, those green, cat’s eyes.  “I could say the same thing.”

Ignore the weird feeling:  _I’ve just seen him.  I just saw him a moment ago.  …In the bushes._   Unlatch South Pasadena gate, go out into the South Pasadena alley, and there’s Loki, and he’s perfect.  Black coattails-of-doom coat, and the green eyes, and that warm, fuck-me-right-now smile.

Such a weird feeling:  _I have seen him, I saw him, he was there…_   Loki’s hands, on Tony’s waist, Loki’s body, that melts against Tony’s body, soft and pliant, like…  _Like a cat’s body_.  Craziness, weird, fucking craziness…  Loki’s mouth, against Tony’s mouth, his pink, _cat’s_ tongue…

“If I believed in magic,” Tony says, and he stops, because he doesn’t.  And Loki hmms in his arms, sounds that are a lot like purring, and he doesn’t believe in magic, he doesn’t, and people turning into animals?  That’s just bullshit.

Loki goes, “ _If_ you believed in magic, yes?”  Little nibbling kisses, teeth sharp like cat’s teeth, across the lips and along Tony’s jaw.  Loki’s tongue, his tickly, scratchy tongue, but it feels good.  “What then?” he says.  “How would your life change?”

 _If I believed, I’d have to think a magic cat was stalking me.  A black tomcat, who takes what he wants, and then melts back into the shadows._   “It was coincidence,” Tony says.  “Tell me you just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

“It was coincidence.”  Teasing Loki-voice, playful.  And the playful nips, and the little kisses.  “I just happened to be in the neighborhood, there’s no way I could have been prowling around here, I’m not a cat for the gods’ sake.”

There in the alleyway, their bodies are pressed so close together, and they’re kissing, and his hands are in Loki’s hair.  And Loki’s lips, right up against Tony’s ear.  “But what if I were a cat,” he says, “what then, Tony?”

Mmm, they’re so close, and Loki’s body feels so good.  Is he ever going to let him go again?  Even if he is a cat?  No, hell no, never.  “I wonder what it’s like to fuck a cat,” Tony says.

And Loki doesn’t answer, he just laughs, noise that sounds like a purr.


End file.
